


Grief is hard

by SWModdy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Obi-Wan learning to cope, slowly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-16 05:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11822487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWModdy/pseuds/SWModdy
Summary: Unable to see them, Obi-Wan is unaware that he has company on Tatooine as the ghosts of his family keep an eye on their surviving members.





	1. Anakin I'm sorry!

When you’re dead, you’re not suppose to feel pain.

Well apparently the Force feels that a lesson is in order for Qui-Gon as Mace throws himself at the man and pins him to the surface of Obi-Wan’s hut on Tatooine, because those punches really hurt when the Korun gives it his all.

“We TOLD you he was dangerous! We told you we saw darkness! BUT NO! NO QUI-GON JINN FOLLOWING THE WILL OF THE FORCE! HOW DID THAT WORK OUT!?” The Korun snarled.

“You were all suppose to guide him!” Qui-Gon argued back, catching the mans wrists and growling back at him. “And then you left Obi-Wan alone to train him.”

Both looked to where the man was carefully boiling some water for tea, Shaak standing by his side and watching the young man who seemed to have aged so much in just a few days.

“Yes talking about Kenobi what the HELL did you do to him during your apprenticeship? What the kark did you tell him?” Mace shook the man again before Qui-Gon managed to shove him off.

“I have no idea what yo-”

“He’s been basically trying to low level kill himself during this entire endevour and if it wasn’t for the fact that he has to look over Skywalker’s sprog then I am willing to bet he could watch me yell at you right now!” Mace growled.

“I did no-, I do-, that is to sa-” Qui-Gon spluttered even as several council members watched the two from Obi-Wan’s bed, using it as their seats.

“You made a perfectly distant Jedi Master but ruined a teen into becoming a self loathing and broken man.” Mace growled deeply. “Always questioning himself, always feeling lesser, always thinking his best was never good enough and emotionally constipated.”

“He seems alright despite it all.” Qui-Gon murmured quietly.

Obi-Wan poured his tea as they looked back to him but when he lifted his cup, his hand trembled even as he blew on the steaming liquid and took a small sip, settling it aside to make a small lunch consisting of dried bantha meat and flatbread.

As they watched, Obi-Wan’s elbow bumped into the cup and it hit the ground, spilling the precious water into the ground as the cup broke.

Obi-Wan stared at it, blinking and then…

They all winced as he slammed his fist into the wall of his hut, instantly pulling back while hissing as he cupped his right hand to his chest, staring down at it as he tested the fingers.

“Perhaps…not.” Qui-Gon sighed as he got up and started to fix up his robes then stiffened when they all heard a small stifled sob.

Obi-Wan was desperately pressing his good hand to his mouth as the other was cradled against his chest, tears welling over it as his shoulders shook. Slowly he backed until he hit the wall, sliding down as more and more tears joined the trail that went down his cheeks, over his hand and dripped onto his beige robe.

Plo moved from the bed and knelt down by him, reaching out towards the redhead’s face with his claws. “Oh young one.”

A piteous little whimper escaped from underneath the hand.

“Some people.” Depa offered softly as she knelt with Plo by Obi-Wan. “Need an excuse to cry. Caleb is like that but Caleb is young.” She stared sadly at Obi-Wan as she gestured to the hand cradled against his chest. “Like a minor injury.”

“…I’ve never seen him cry like that before.” Qui-Gon whispered.

“No one has because you ruined him Jinn. I would happily strangle you if I thought it would help on anything.” Mace growled then closed his eyes as Obi-Wan lost his fight with his own tears and emotions, breaking into soul wrecking wails as he fisted his hands into his tunics.

“Anakin! I’m sorry!” Obi-Wan cried out, voice thick.

Qui-Gon dropped down in front of him between Depa and Plo, reaching out towards the young man only for his hand to pass through him, cursing as it did, helpless to comfort the young man breaking apart in front of their very eyes.

“…We should have taken him from you while he was on probation, regardless of what Yoda said.” Mace added gravely. “At least he wouldn’t be here now, a broken shell of a man you destroyed in his youth.”

Qui-Gon felt a heavy weight settle in his chest as Obi-Wan continued to cry, losing precious water in the heat of Tatooine.


	2. Never touch them

Watching Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had never felt as helpless as in that moment as the young man twisted on the bed, covered in sweat and panting as a fever ravaged his body. In the temple Obi-Wan would have been able to get a hypospray to help him recover quicker but out here on Tatooine in his hut, Obi-Wan only had himself and his things.

And the ghosts of the past.

“Oh Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon passed a ghostly hand over the others cheek.

The man whimpered quietly and rolled onto his side, pulling his legs up to his chest, sweat rolling into his thin pillow.

“How is he?” Depa questioned softly as she materialized by the bed.

“…Worse. Much worse.” Qui-Gon settled on quietly, staring down at the broken man he had helped create.

He didn’t carry all the burdens of Obi-Wan’s break but he was responsible for much of it. “How is Caleb?” He questioned in turn, just to get something else to think about.

“He goes by Kanan Jarrus now, he’s…surviving.” Depa settled down on Obi-Wan’s bedside too.

Beneath their gaze Obi-Wan opened fever glazed eyes and then slowly shuffled out of bed, falling to his knees once before he managed to reach the kitchen, clinging to the counter as he got himself a glass of water.

“Kark, he’s worse.” Mace growled as he appeared by Obi-Wan’s bantha leather covered couch, eyes narrowed as he examined Obi-Wan from head to toe.

Obi-Wan was wearing only a long night shirt that was soaked darker around the armpits and v of the chest, his hair clinging to his neck with beard and hair tussled. On his exposed skin, purple spots covered him, looking painful. As they watched, Obi-Wan slowly sunk down on the floor again, resting on his knees with the glass of luke warm water in his hands as he placed his head against the counter door.

There was nothing they could do for the young man.

They were ghosts, unable to interact with the living, unable to give Obi-Wan the support he needed as he curled quietly up against the kitchen cupboard with water in his hands as he stared at the bed with fever glazed eyes.

“…You know what the worst of this is?” Shaak offered quietly from the couch.

“What?” Mace growled quietly.

“He thinks he’s alone. He thinks there’s no one left to care for him, that there is no one left in the galaxy that worries about him or wants him to be well, that wants him to be healthy, well feed and serene.” She settled her hands in her lap. “That’s the worst of it. That he thinks he’s all alone when we’re right here, watching him.”

Qui-Gon swallowed heavily and got up, moving to kneel in front of Obi-Wan who never saw him. “Oh Obi-Wan.” He reached out and wrapped ghostly arms around the man, wishing he could tuck him beneath his chin and hold him for real.

That is the curse of this life.

You can see the living.

You may even be able to speak to the living.

But you can never touch them.


	3. Kanan Jarrus

The rain was coming down even harder then before and Depa continued staring out into the falling water with almost closed eyes, sitting beside the boy who could no longer see her.

Caleb…no… not Caleb anymore, Kanan stared out into the rain too, sitting beneath a balcony on a box which provided him the dryness he needed to remain just where he was as everyone else ran around trying to get to their shops and their homes away from the rain as it ran rivers down the streets.

Slowly the boy shifted and pulled his legs up on the box, settling his legs against his chest while wrapping his arms around them, chin coming to rest on his knees.

She wondered what he was thinking.

There was a time when she could have skimmed his thoughts but death had broken their bond and she could no longer her the soft if at times chaotic thoughts that raced through the other. If Depa had more time, she would have taught him how to control that, how to meditate his mind calm and organize his thoughts more.

Kanan tensed a bit as troopers marched past where he sat but didn’t move anymore then that, sitting still to not draw attention.

Beside…

What was another urchin to the troopers who could no longer remember the Jedi’s they had once served beside with trust and ease.

Depa still reached out to Kanan, rested her hand on his shoulder until the danger passed yet the boys eyes never moved from the troopers until they were out of sight and he went back to staring at the water coming down from the sky.

Thunder rumbled faintly far away from them and Kanan sighed quietly to himself, glancing at the chrono tower with a faint grumble.

He got up and brushed off himself, lips pinched together. “Guess the deals out then.” He muttered as his stomach growled, wearing a dirty set of spacer clothes and Depa felt something deep inside of herself wail out at the unfairness of it all.

‘I never meant to leave you alone Caleb. I never meant for you to manage on your own… I was going to teach you to survive. I swear I was…I thought I had time… I thought I had time…’

The former padawan couldn’t see the ghost of his past as he looked up and down the street before pulling the dirty hood of his coat up over his head to cover his face, heading out into the rain and leaving his ghostly spectator behind.

Depa didn’t follow since Mace picked that moment to show up, resting a hand on her shoulder. “…Is Obi-Wan recovering?”

“A bit, he managed to get up and check the vapors today, even fixed one of them.” The man rumbled, staring at the back of the boy. “…Caleb?”

“…I think a deal was suppose to go down but the seller or buyer never showed… some troopers went by but none of them stopped…”

The two stood there under the balcony as tooka’s rushed past trying to get to a dry spot and ended up hiding in the box beside the ghostly Jedi’s.

Just ghosts watching the galaxy pass them by. 


	4. One night only

The sound of smashed ceramic filled the air but Obi-Wan took no note of it as he stared at his bed with the furs that lined it, eyes wide and his breath coming much too fast in his chest.

He was staring right at two sheer figures in soft shades of blue, Mace Windu who was chatting quietly with Shaak Ti though when the sound of the mug hit the floor filled the small space Obi-Wan now called home, both turned to him quickly to stare at the too pale surviving Jedi.

Obi-Wan pressed his sunburned hands to his face, taking as sharp a breath as he could to try and calm the race of his heart. “This is it, I’m going insane.” He wheezed. “I’m having vivid hallucinations on Tatooine. A sunstroke or something for letting Anakin down, for letting the Order down.” A choked sob escaped him as he trembled.

And then hands touched him, like the breeze of Tatooine but warmer with the scent of Mace Windu’s spicy tea and Obi-Wan choked on another sob. “No, no, no don’t do this against m-”

“Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan calm down and breath.” The Korun growled out in that warm tone. “You need to breath Obi-Wan.”

Shuddering, Obi-Wan tried to breath even as he ran his hands into his hair, fisting it until sharp pain blossomed in his scalp and he whimpered quietly.

“Obi-Wan, stop that.” Came Shaak’s measured voice tinged with worry as her ghostly touch joined Mace, brushing his arms and he choked out a third sob as he struggled to make his suddenly weakened knees carry him.

He managed to stagger to the bed and sit down heavily as more ghostly figures filled his small hut, shuddering as he placed his head on his knees and took his panicked breaths, feeling those ghostly touches of those he had once debated and eaten with.

And then the ghostly touch that brushed over his hair came with a voice Obi-Wan had not heard for almost fifteen years.

“Obi-Wan, breath padawan of mine.” Came the quiet brogue of Qui-Gon.

The redhead stopped breathing, holding it as he slowly lifted tear filled eyes to meet Qui-Gon’s still intensely blue eyes that were wrinkled with worry and concern, the mans hands coming to rest in a ghostly touch against Obi-Wan’s face. “Calm that racing heart of yours Obi-Wan please.”

Shuddering, Obi-Wan clenched his hands into his leggings to resist the urge to touch. “Forgive me.” He wheezed. “I couldn’t do as you asked. I lost him.” Tears poured down his face, fat as they splashed onto the brown leggings and darkened the fabric.

“Oh Obi-Wan there is nothing to forgive because you did your best. Now breath, your lungs need air.” Qui-Gon repeated.

Lungs burning Obi-Wan did as told as he glanced around the room, taking note of all the council members that had died, tears rolling ever faster down his face. “But I failed. I failed and he fell an-”

Depa reached for him, her hand stroking against his face in that same ghostly touch that seemed to carry the scent of incense that she used to meditate to. “Obi-Wan we don’t blame you. We never blamed you.”

Behind her again, Adi smiled softly at the still living Jedi. “Obi-Wan, let yourself grieve. Its time to let go.” She said softly. “Let go of the guilt and mourn us.”

Shaking harder, Obi-Wan gave a cry and buried his face into his sheets, crying until sleep claimed his weary body.

Only the ghosts remained awake and guarded his dreams as best they could.

Staring down at the tear wet face of Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon slowly looked up at the others as he remained kneeling by the bed. “How could he suddenly see us?”

“It is the day of the dead on Tatooine.” Plo murmured. “Perhaps the belief of the beings who live here has shaped the Force to allow the contact for only this night?” He shrugged. “Let us not question it, let us hope that this has not done Obi-Wan worse to see us.”

They all lingered the night through, waiting for the first rays of the sun to break out over the desert of Tatooine and in the morning they watched as Obi-Wan sat up and looked around wildly until his eyes fell on the broken cup from last night. “…A dream?” The graying man rasped in question before pressing the heel of his hand to a red and swollen eye. “…I need to meditate.” He whispered, sounding lost before pushing to his feet and staggering to his water container.

Qui-Gon reached for his padawan, his hands passing through him without the ghostly touch from last night and he took his own sharp breath.

One night and only one night.

‘I need to teach him how to hear us…see us…’ He thought shakily. ‘Please let me teach him.’


	5. Hit then hug

“She’s doing better then?” Mace questioned quietly, sitting on Obi-Wan’s counter as they watched the man carefully mend his ruined robe, the redhead’s weary face starting to gain wrinkles from the sun. It didn’t help that Owen Lars had been by to tell Obi-Wan exactly what he thought about him and any weird nonsense the old Jedi might teach Luke.

‘Haven’t you murdered enough Skywalker’s.’

It was clear who Owen blamed for Anakin’s supposed death.

“Yes, little Soka has managed to find a good niche, the Rebellion treats her well and she’s quickly gaining a good support system, working with Bail Organa.” Plo rumbled deeply. “He however does not look well.”

“…Lars was by.” Mace settled on saying, the kel dor sighing deeply in understanding.

“I never understood the level of dislike he has, he only meet Skywalker once…”

Mace shrugged. “He seems to think the Order and Obi-Wan in particular, twisted him and lead him to his death.” He stared at Obi-Wan before grimacing. “I don’t like Lars. If there was anyone out there in the galaxy that had reason to love and care for Skywalker, it was Obi-Wan. He was the mans brother, not Lars regardless of whatever marriage Lars father had to Skywalker’s mother.”

Plo shrugged and then moved to stand beside Obi-Wan, watching him. “…He looks like he’s aged a decade. He’ll be old before his time.” He murmured, reaching out and brushing his claws against the other shoulder.

Shaak appeared, settling down on the floor with a sigh.

“No luck?” Mace raised his brow and the togruta shook his head.

“No. Yoda can only hear Qui-Gon, none of us other. Just like before its only Qui-Gon who can reach him and Depa speculate its because of both the close tie Yoda had to Qui-Gon but also his own deep connection to the living and cosmic Force.”

Obi-Wan suddenly shifted, shaking the folds of the now mended worn out robe out before smiling at it. “Almost like new.” He grinned faintly.

He stood to put it away only to give a little grunt when his left knee gave a sound snap, the redhead settling his hand on the table for support as he stretched his leg carefully. “Kark…” He hissed.

All three stared at him.

“…Its been happening more as of late. The sun and lack of medical care of Tatooine is taking a toll on him.” Shaak whispered, brows furrowed with worry. “He needs to visit the medic.”

Snorting sharply, Mace leaned his elbows on his knees while watching Obi-Wan make his way to hang up the robe now that he’d stretched, walking with a faint limp.

“He doesn’t go. You know he doesn’t go. One, he can’t afford it. And two, he worries about being recognized. He still looks like General Kenobi and even Tatooine had a few of those images circle. There’s still refugees from the cores here too.” He murmured bitterly. At least the hood of his robe came to use both for to shield him from sun and prying gazes.

“So what? He’s going wait until he grows white haired and wrinkled like a dried prune?” Shaak challenged.

There was a horrifying silence as all three realized that might be exactly what Obi-Wan would do.

“For kark’s sake Obi-Wan.” Mace groaned.

“Not that I disagree, but what did he do now?” Kit questioned and the three explained their theory. “… Well it wouldn’t exactly surprise me. He is reckless even now.” Kit sighed. “He did after all keep his name and hasn’t really made an effort in hiding outside of coming to Tatooine which frankly isn’t that much of disguise.”

The four settled down, watching the redhead settle down slowly for meditation.

“…One day he’ll join us… when he does… I think I’m going to hit him.” Shaak murmured with a sad smile. “Hit him then hug him.”

Mace snorted but quietly, he agreed.


End file.
